call me snake.
you assholes didn't bring me here to give me this for 20 years of dedicated service. what'ya want?
sad story. you got a cigarette?
what's the little black box do?
and i don't need to know. so fuck you, i'm goin' to hollywood.
so what's the deal, huh? go into l.a., find the president's daughter, secure the box, and bring 'em both out - and i'm free?
tell the president to adopt. i think i'll like l.a.
who are you?
i can see you're real concerned about your daughter.
well, i'll think it over.
i've been doin' that all my life. might as well do it in l.a. everybody else there is.
wait a minute, what are you talkin' about?
maybe. but you're not putting any shit in me this time.
get this crap out of me.
call me snake.
i'll need to know more about this thing.
defense against what?
so what does this thing do?
where do i put ashore?
so you want me to take her out? is that an order from the president?
by the way - who gives me the anti-toxin?
not you?
good.
com check.
she's in the green.
locked.
75% power.
i'm here.
it's history. i gotta go.
which way to the hollywood bowl?
i'm looking for somebody.
what's going on?
what's happening?
as the other mescalito riding behind him swings a chain. plissken swings his. the two chains snap together, intertwining. then plissken squeezes his hand-brake. he screeches to a stop. the mescalito keeps going, and is yanked over backward by his own chain, off the harley. finally the harley flops over, skids, explodes. plissken guns it again, takes off after the cadillac.
as the bolas hit him, wrap around his neck, the balls thunking him in the face, sending him flying.
lies there for several beats, then climbs to his feet.
stands alone in the deserted street. the ruins of a supermarket, cheap motels, liquor stores - all empty, desolate.
where'd they go?
where are they?
location.
are you crazy?
what are they?
no screamin' shit.
who?
turns his head sideways, to a small hidden pocket near his neck. with his teeth, he pulls out the silver mouth dart, slips it onto his tongue, closes his mouth.
don't follow me.
like hell i do.
this is a dead end. you took us into a dead end!
go!
the what?
are you gonna stand there? give me the gun!
how do we get out of here?
how the hell am i supposed to know? this is your damn city.
looking to get out.
which way?
why don't you get out of l.a.? take a boat to china, take an airplane to brazil? earthquakes, death, shit. why do you stay?
yeah. so how do i get to venice?
what the hell is this?
i know that. there are people in some of these cars.
find cuervo jones.
who?
returns fire, rolls under a car and begins crawling. all around him people jump out of their cars, begin firing back at the mescalitos.
reaches the edge of the freeway, dives for the bushes.
delgado?
stop the damn car.
i said pull over.
where is it?
grits his teeth and gasps. his gun drops. blood runs from four holes in his shirt. his face grows red as he fights for air.
shit.
realizes he's got to get to the other side of the court. he jumps into the huddle with jamaal, peering at him with his one good, cold eye.
your brother died owing me, so i'm taking it out in trade. i need a favor.
i need to get across the court now.  without drawing attention to myself.
where are they going?
not yet.
shit.
get out of here.
i said go!
what does this thing do?
i'm in another opening.  storm drain.  there may be another way up to you.
emerges from the hole, slides out, tumbles down to a water-filled canyon bottom. he lies there for a moment, trying to focus his eye. stabbing pain in his shoulder and leg. finally he rises unsteadily to his feet, looks around, trying to get his bearings. he finds himself at the bottom of.
where's.  cuervo jones?
where?
take me there.
who?
see you later.
listen up. i need directions. downtown. somebody named hershe.
later.
cease fire with the bullshit.
i need a favor.
wait a minute. i know that voice. you're carjack malone.
you owe me. you left me holdin' everything back there in cleveland.
yeah. with me and texas mike o'shay.
don't lie to me.
i got a new deal for you.
you help me, you live.
i'm already dead.
get me to cuervo jones. get me to the kingdom. i got one hour.
say goodnight, carjack.
how do you know all this?
we get the girl and the prototype. and we get out.
yeah.
we'll see.
the president's promised to give whoever helps me 1 million dollars.
uh-uh. bluebacks.
bluebacks. i'm not bullshittin'. i swear to god.
you want to stay here, while cuervo jones rules the world?
i don't know yet.
don't like it, don't come.
yeah, kinda.
if he lets you get close enough.
if i'm late, carjack, don't start without me.
gliding through the air, as the wind picks him upward. he arcs away from the street level, up toward the remains of the downtown skyscrapers. behind him, one after another, the group takes off into the wind, diving, rising with the wind.
glances at his wrist watch. only 20 minutes left. map to the stars eddie swings wildly over in his direction, manages to stabilize his glider for a few moments.
is that what i think it is?
she's overloaded! we're too heavy.
get ready, shitheads. we're comin' in.
yeah, i got it.
i think we've burned off enough fuel. we may be lighter enough to hover. just barely.
no. the right skid's broken. if i try to set it down she'll crash. i have to stay in a hoverwhile you jump off. hey, carjack. we gotta hide the girl. give her your dress.
don't shoot! they can drag us down into the sea.
take the controls!
it's taking all the power we've got to hover.
jump out. head for the treeline and disappear.
go!
all right, baby. don't be too rough on me. we're gonna land.
where's the anti-toxin?
give me the goddamn shot!
got a smoke?
the name's plissken.